A Mommy Story

After my spectacular fail at running two eight-minute intervals on Sunday, I set out to do it again last night. It was still hot and humid, but the benefit of the evening is that I don’t have rays of sunshine burning into me. It wasn’t quite sunset yet, but with the threat of rain moving in, I didn’t have the luxury of waiting until dark.

I’ve realized that I’m a perfectionist, and being unable to complete that run on Sunday really upset me. I carry failure with me far longer than I carry success. Last night’s five-minute warm-up walk was spent trying to battle the doubt in my head, wondering if I had hit the maximum I was capable of, wondering if it was really just a crazy idea to think I could ever be a runner when my body is far more acclimated to a chair and a desk. But then the C25K app dinged – telling me to run – and I said What the hell, let’s do it right this time.

Here’s the cool part, though: as I was just starting that first run, I turned a corner and noticed a double rainbow up in the sky. It wasn’t raining anywhere around me, but there they were – two bands of color against a dark cloud. I immediately thought of Nathan Fillion’s double rainbow tweets, and the silly double rainbow YouTube video those tweets are based around. If double rainbow equates to interstellar awesome, then this was a sign that I was going to make it through this run.

The first eight-minute run was tough, just like last time, but I managed it. Then the second interval started, and I was immediately flooded with worry and doubt again. I tried to push it out of my head, focus on the music, look for the now-faded rainbows, but I couldn’t shake it.

With three minutes left to run, full exhaustion hit. I was losing steam and I knew it. Pushing hard, I decided that I was going to do this, no excuses. A minute and a half left, and I started to feel sick. You can vomit after the interval is complete, I told myself. One minutes left, and I reminded myself You can do anything for one little minute.

And then that calm male voice from the C25K app came through my headphones: Cooldown. I did it. I was weak all over, I was gasping for breath, I still felt like vomiting (but didn’t), and I could barely see through the sweat in my eyes, but I did it.

I ran for two eight-minute intervals. One more milestone achieved.